


I'm Coming, Sammy

by Scooter_The_Noodle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Death, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 06:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10380264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scooter_The_Noodle/pseuds/Scooter_The_Noodle
Summary: After Sam is shot an killed, Dean tries to bring him back. But no one will. So, he takes matters into his own hands to see his brother again.A bottle and a gun road shotgun and he drove to his final destination. No where.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of a picture I found on Facebook. There is death and suicide in here, so be mindful.

"Sam!" Dean screamed, staring at the hole through the center of his forehead, watching the blood leak out as Sam's body fell to the ground. "No!"

Then, angry green eyes turned to the hunter that stood beside him. "What the hell were you thinking!?" He shouted.

"He was a monster that needed to be dispatched." The man, David, was young. Early twenties. Avid hunter. But he was too quick to pull his trigger.

"And how do you know that?"

"Because his shoulder was all bloody. They always go for the shoulder." The man answered.

"He literally was just in the middle of a fist fight with it. That blood could have been any number of things!" Dean turned his own gun on David, barrel aimed right between his eyes. Dean's hands didn't falter as he pulled his own trigger, dropping David.

He didn't watch the man fall dead, he didn't see how David's last look of horror would be frozen of his face forever. All that mattered to Dean was his little brother.

"Sam!" He cried, his gun dropping to the ground and he fell to his knees. He pulled Sam's body against his chest and held it, crying, trying to convince himself it was all a dream. A bad dream that he would wake up from.

Yet, he knew, deep down, that it wasn't a dream. Sam wasn't going to be sitting on the motel bed next to his, searching away in his computer, or sleeping, papers spread out on the bed. Sam wasn't going to be sitting next to him in the Impala anymore, scoffing and shaking his head as Dean belted out classics.

Sam wasn't going to be there.

The realization was crushing. It was numbing.

Dean could feel the tears run down his face. He could feel tears running down his face and she struggled to get his brother back to the car, yet, it almost seemed like he was watching through a window.

The feeling wouldn't leave. It lingered, gripping onto him with a frigid grip. Sleep was nearly impossible. Even the thought of eating make him nauseous. He buried Sam just off the grounds of the graveyard, where Mary and John laid. He was going to get Sam back. Whether it be through a deal, like He had done all those years ago, or through Cas. Cas brought him back. He could bring Sam back.

Here he was, two weeks after Sam's death, standing at a crossroads, summoning Crowley.

"Squirrel." He heard the demon drawl behind him and he turned.

"I want to-" Dean started.

"Make a deal for Sam's soul." Crowley finished for him. "But the thing is, Squirrel, it would be useless. Moore's soul is out of my reach."

"Please!" He begged.

Crowley did nothing but shake his head and disappeared, leaving Dean to head back to his motel.

For hours, he paced, trying to figure out what to do. Then, there was a flutter behind him and he turned, finding himself nearly toe to toe with Castiel.

"Where the hell have you been?" Dean interrogated. "I've been praying to your sorry was for weeks, but you are just now showing up?"

"I'm sorry, Dean. But you needed some time." Cas grumbled back.

"Some time for what? For living without Sam?"

"Yes."

"And why is that? Crowley won't do jack. So are you here to tell me you won't either?" Dean's voice was angry, a low growl.

"You are correct. I am here to tell you that I won't take Sam from his heaven. Let me show you." Cas laid two fingers on Dean's head and Dean blinked. He was standing in an apartment. It was vaugely familiar.

"Come on, Sam!" He heard a voice call and looked up as a blonde entered the room where he and Cas stood, paying no attention to them. She was beautiful and familiar, like this room. She was dressed up, but Dean paid little attention to that.

"Jess, do I really have to go?" There was that all too familiar voice of Sam. He appeared at the door. He was in an old flannel shirt, the top few buttons still undone as he combed his hair. He looked so happy and unburdened, as though the weight of everything he had ever gone through had been lifted off of his shoulders.

Dean wasn't even aware that he had moved until he felt Cas's hand in his shoulder.

"Don't." Cas warned. Dean looked over his shoulder at him. Then, they were back in his Motel room.

"He's happy Dean. He has Jess. He is living a life free of the fear of waking up to find you killed by a monster, or of the burden of all that he suffered. I will not take him from that Dean. That would be selfish." Cas berated gently and patted Dean's shpulder. Then, he, too, was gone.

Dean was alone. Sam was gone, Bobby was gone, Jody already had her hands full with the two girls. He had no one to turn to.

Maybe that is the thought that finally made up his mind on a topic he had been chewing on since Sam had died.

He packed noting from the motel except his keys, his gun, and enough money for a single bottle of whiskey.

He had half of the whiskey bottle finished before he even started the car to head to his final destination.

The whiskey and the gun rode shotgun, instead of Sam. He played no music. The drive was silent except for the sound of his car.

He knew where he was going. No where. Some rarely used highway to park Baby one last time.

He pulled her over on the side of the road and grabbed both items in the front.

He climbed into the front of his car and sat down staring blankly ahead for a moment before looking down at his gun. A single bullet rested in the clip. The Last one he would even shoot.

One finally swig of whiskey and he placed the cold barrel against his temple, looking up to the stars.

"I'm coming, Sammy." He said, a single year falling.

He cocked the gun, took one last breath, and pulled the trigger, closing his eyes one final time.

He always said he would die with a gun in his hands.

As his body fell back against the car windshield, two people appeared at his side. A reaper and an angel.

"He deserves hell." The reaper said.

"No. This man has suffered his whole life. It is time that he finally experiences happiness." The angel replied and turned to the spirit who had appeared beside the two of them.

"Come now, Dean. Your family is waiting for you." Cas held his hand out to lead his hunter on his final journey.


End file.
